


A Nice, Ripe Girl

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bloodplay, F/M, Menstruation Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike has a dare for Buffy after School Hard</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nice, Ripe Girl

Buffy wandered through the cemetery, idly twirling her stake in one hand. Giles had actually tried to talk her out of patrolling tonight, but she wasn't about to miss it. The fight last night had left her restless and edgy, and she needed to take the leftover energy out on the vampire population before it drove her crazy. Besides, Spike was probably holed up somewhere licking his wounds and promising to kill her some other time. That was what the bad guys did, right? She resolutely ignored the whisper deep inside that said this vampire was different than the rest.

So far she'd only found two fledges, neither of them enough of a challenge to give her that rush that she'd felt last night. She was about to call it a night when a shiver up the back of her neck made her stop and smile. “I hope you guys are ready for a fight,” she warned whatever vampires were behind her. “After all, first up, first -”

“Killed?” A low voice purred. “Come on now, Slayer, doesn't seem sportin', you offerin' yourself up quite so easy, now, does it?”

She wasn't really that surprised to see the bleached blond from last night when she turned around. Butterflies twitched in her stomach, but Buffy forced them back and asked, “What do you want, Spike?”

“Just a little taste, 'sall.” The vampire licked his lips and stared at her, his eyes intent and startlingly pretty for an evil creature.

She huffed in annoyance, folding her arms. “Oh sure, and I'm supposed to just open a vein whenever a vampire asks, right?”

“Wouldn't have to open a vein, ducks. Got some on tap, don'tcha?” Her nose wrinkled as she stared at him in confusion. He sighed. “Vampire, Slayer. Can smell it, yeah?”

His eyes drifted down her body to - “Ew! That's gross!”

A low chuckle escaped at the sight of the blush that swept clear up to her hairline. “Shouldn't knock it 'til you've tried it, pet. Might like it an' then where'd you be, hmmm?”

She scoffed. “Like that would ever happen. Get real, Spike - nobody but a sick perv like you would _ever_ think that's sexy.”

“Sick perv, huh?” He smirked at her. “Tell you what, Slayer - I'll make you a deal. We'll spar, an' the winner gets an hour to do whatever they want with the loser, no permanent injury or death.”

Buffy couldn't quite believe what he was suggesting. “Wait... you wanna fight me for... fun?”

He shrugged. “Got nothin' better to do. An' unless your night's goin' a sight better'n mine, figured you might fancy a rematch.”

“And what part of a fight to death is supposed to be fun, exactly?” She crossed her arms and looked over at him, wondering why she wasn't just trying to stake him as it was.

Spike snorted. “Whole thing's fun, Slayer. Christ, you expect me to believe this is who you really are, this prissy little stuck-up bitch?”

“I'm not stuck-up!” she retorted, stung by the thought that he might actually view her that way. Was that really how she came across to people, like some Cordelia Chase clone, a princess who expected everyone to bow down and worship her? “I just... don't like fighting, is all.”

The vampire stared at her in open surprise. “Don't like - what the hell are you on about, girl?!? D'you honestly mean to tell me it doesn't get you goin', that you don't feel the rush, don't love puttin' yourself up against the biggest an' baddest beasties out there an' provin' how much better you are than them?” He started moving slowly towards her, his eyes intent on hers. “Come on, Slayer. That line of crap might work on your little groupies there, but I know better.”

Buffy's chin went up as she fought the urge to turn and run home. Something in those dark eyes frightened her, warned her to flee while calling her closer at the same time. “You don't know me,” she stated softly, tightening her grip on her stake.

“Know you better'n you think, pet. Spent most of my life dancin' with your kind, ain't I?” Spike stopped just inches away from her, close enough for her to smell the cigarettes on his breath when he spoke. “One hour, winner's choice.”

Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to either stake him or get the hell away from him, but she found herself saying instead, “Uh-uh. I win, you leave.”

“Raisin' the stakes on me, are you?” He laughed softly. “Can't agree to that, though - not finished with my business here yet.”

“That's the deal, Spike. Take it or leave it.” Buffy folded her arms and met his gaze, hoping she looked more badass fighter than pouting little girl.

He tilted his head, studying her for a second, then nodded. “All right, then. But if that's the game, then I want more'n an hour.”

“What do you want, then?”

His lips curved in a smirk that should've been sinister but ended up being sexier than she was comfortable with. “I want the whole night.”

“You can have until sunrise,” she promised, feeling the knot in her stomach tighten. It wasn't like he was going to win, she told herself, so it really didn't matter what she offered him. Besides, even if she lost, he'd probably just end up killing her in the fight, so either way, she wouldn't have to pay the bet off. She did her best to ignore the tiny voice in the back of her mind that whispered that Spike might very well decide to hold her to the terms, even if it was only to make her squirm.

His answer was a fist that shot out, slamming into her cheek hard enough to make her see stars. Buffy took a step back before she retaliated, smashing the heel of her hand forward, her lips curving in a smile as his nose gave way with a satisfying crunch amid a howl of mingled pain and rage.

“Bitch!” Spike growled, shifting into vamp face, yellow eyes glaring at her. “Gonna make you pay for that one,” he promised.

Buffy dodged his strike and elbowed him swiftly in the stomach. “Sorry, but I'm a little short on cash right now. How about an IOU instead?”

He caught hold of her hair and yanked, bringing her down to the ground. “I'm more of a pay-up-or-die kinda guy, but I might make an exception if you scream real nice.” Teeth glistened in the faint moonlight as he bared his fangs with a snarl and lunged, following her down only to come up short with a scream as she brought her knee up between his legs.

“I don't scream,” Buffy informed him, dusting herself off as she got to her feet. She looked down at the groaning vampire, unable to help taking a little pleasure at least in the way he cupped his groin in his hands and rolled on the ground. “So... I'd say we're done, then. Have a nice trip on the first one-way out of town, Spike.”

She turned and walked away, but she'd barely gotten five feet when a hand suddenly circled her throat and squeezed. Buffy choked, her hands flying up to claw at Spike's arm as she was pulled back against a hard chest. He tightened his grip when she began to struggle, cutting off the tiny thread of air that she'd been clinging desperately to. “Yield or die where you stand,” Spike commanded.

Fangs scraped over her throat, but she barely felt them through the heavy weight that seemed to have descended on her chest. The fingers that held her flexed slightly, making the very air around her seem to dance with the spots that swam in front of her eyes. “You win,” she croaked.

Instantly, Spike released her, and Buffy fell to her knees, gasping as she drew air in with huge gulps. She was shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks as her body slowly came back to life. How had she come so close to dying, and why hadn't he finished the job? She looked up to see Spike standing over her, and her eyes widened as the sudden cold dash of reality hit her- she'd lost. Which meant that now -

“Sunnydale Arms, room 112. Tomorrow at sunset, or I'll make that look like a kiddie party,” he informed her, then strode away without waiting for her response.

Buffy's stomach tightened into a knot as she watched the monster she'd promised to spend the night with walk away. “Giles is gonna kill me.”


End file.
